


Brave New World

by bubblewrapstargirl



Series: Hopeless Wanderer [1]
Category: Resident Evil (Movieverse), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Mutation, Post-Terminus, Season/Series 05, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2485640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblewrapstargirl/pseuds/bubblewrapstargirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the group reunites, post-Terminus, Carl gets bit. The results are... unexpected.</p><p> </p><p>---<br/>No knowledge of Resident Evil is necessary, this is purely a TWD story, only as if it were set in a universe where the Umbrella Corporation exists and is responsible for the virus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brave New World

**Author's Note:**

> AU after 5x01.

It shouldn’t have happened, not now they were in such a big group. They should have been safer, should have been able to find shelter before it came to this. But in this broken world they now called home, it only takes one stumble for everything to go wrong.

Carl was screaming, a primal sound of terror and pain, louder and more spine-chilling than even his awful cries when he’d narrowly avoided being raped. Rick’s attention snapped to where Carl had been fighting next to Sasha and Bob. There’d been a bunch of walkers stumbling through the woods, and with their numbers up again, they should have been strong enough to defeat them, but they weren’t. They just weren’t quick enough this time, and it was Carl who paid the price.

Then it was over; the silence was total; not a rustle in the dead air. Carl had fallen to his knees beside the walker that had bit him. Rick dropped his gun into the leaf-littered earth, gaping in mounting horror of the sight of his eldest child: his only son, who he’d fought so hard to protect and loved more than anything else on the planet - kneeling in the dirt, panting in exhaustion, blood pouring down his arm from the chunk of flesh that had been torn loose up by his shoulder.

\--

Rick knelt beside Carl all through the night, his son’s head laying in his lap. The others were keeping a respectful distance. The group barely spoke, only muted words and whispers. The joy of reunion had been torn clean from them. Carl was dying slowly, shivering through the fever as the poison raced through his veins.

Before they settled down to sleep, Carl, who had been drifting in and out of lucidity, turned to where the main group was huddled. He cleared his throat, coughing more than he’d intended as he fought to ignore the pain.

“Daryl?” he whispered, but it was enough. The expect archer was up like a shot, quickly making his way over to them.

“I’m here.” said Daryl, his curt voice softer than usual.

“I need-” Carl stopped as he coughed again, this time moaning in pain, because it felt like someone was trying to nail spikes through his throat every time he tried to speak. Eventually he got his fit under control enough at least to talk, registering the feel of both Daryl and his father’s hands holding him, trying to keep him steady and offer some kind of support.

“I need you to do something for me.” he continued.

It was quiet enough that the group could hear every word, but they averted their eyes, trying to give them some privacy. Maggie and Michonne were crying silently; Tyreese holding Judith close, tucking his face into her to avoid the pain.

“Sure, bud.” Daryl replied, keeping eye contact with Carl, to let him know he was serious. “Anything.”

Carl nodded, satisfied at the answer. Thick rivulets of sweat were running down his face from his soaked hair; his hat had fallen off some hours prior and was still laying in the leaves.

“You have to promise- promise me-” he stuttered, taking a gasping breath. He was struggling to stay awake, but he needed to do this, it was important, if only he could keep his eyes open a moment longer...

With tremendous effort, Carl opened his eyes, catching Daryl’s sad gaze, and his father’s destroyed expression from what seemed like miles above.

“You have to be the one.” he said, scrabbling to catch hold of Daryl; he caught the man’s wrist and held it as tight as he could as fire raced down his spine. “You can’t let Dad do it.”

“Carl-” Rick interrupted, in shock. It was the first time he’d spoken in hours, and his voice was thick and deep with dread and disbelief. He hadn’t accepted what was going to happen.

“No!” Carl panted, his trademark Grimes anger flaring up for what was probably the final time. “You c-can’t let him, Daryl, don’t let him. Don’t... promise- promise me!”

His voice was a pained hiss, but his fingers were strong, little bands of steel wrapped round Daryl’s dusty arm. The older man was silent for a long moment, the bruises and cuts on his face barely visible in the dying light. Finally, he nodded.

Carl exhaled in a rush of exhausted relief.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, “Thank...” but he drifted back into unconsciousness before he could say anything else, whatever stubborn part of him had been holding on ‘til then flicking and going out like the weak flame of a candle.

\--

They took turns on watch, as usual. No one interrupted them, no people, no walkers. The long night was punctuated by Rick’s quiet sobs, Carl’s groans of pain. Very few of them managed to snatch more than a few hours of sleep. They were all too shaken; even the newcomers, Abraham, Rosita, Tara and Eugene, were deeply disturbed by the slow, agonising death of a child they could do nothing to save.

Carl had only had one more moment of distinct, clear speech. He’d begged his father not to slip away when he was gone, told Rick to stay strong, for Judith, who was still going to need him. It was too much for Carol, who had seen too many children destroyed, and she had been crying ever since, lost in her horrific memories. When daylight broke, they were all pale with fatigue. Rick was still sitting beside Carl, cradling him close. Too close to be safe.

Daryl knew from the look on his friend’s face that trying to talk to Rick would only result in a gun shoved in his face. He would wait until it was absolutely necessary, but he would get the job done. There was no way he was going to deny the kid his last wish. Rick wouldn’t like it, probably not for a long time after, but that was something he was prepared to live with.

Time seemed to be crawling by, but slowly the sun crept up on them, until it was high and bright enough for it to be proper morning; probably somewhere around eight o’clock in the old world. No one could get close enough to see for sure, but Carl had been totally silent and still all morning. It had been too long for it to be anything other than what it was. He was gone.

The tension was broken by Rick shifting forward, brushing Carl’s limp brown hair back. Carl didn’t look like he was sleeping; which is what people used to say to reassure themselves. He was cold, death pale upon his cheek.

“I love you so much. Always did. You were the best part of me. Only thing that stopped me walking out on Lori long before all this. You were everything. And I should have protected you, Carl - I should be the one laying there. I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry...” Rick said, uncaring of his audience. The world had narrowed down to him and his son.

And finally, there it was, the tell-tale shuffle, the slow grind of teeth. Carl’s body shifted beneath Rick’s touch, as the group collectively watched in muted horror. Daryl stepped forwards, crossbow in hand.

Carl’s eyelashes fluttered open, his blue eyes still startlingly bright. He didn’t blink, no sign of recognition. Then his eyes focused and he saw Rick above him.

He opened his mouth, but instead of the death rattle they were all so used to, he said; “Dad?”

The shock was too much. Rick rocked forwards, unable to speak, dragging Carl up and into his arms. Carl hung in his father’s embrace limply for a moment, before he returned the hug, gripping on tight and burying his face into Rick’s shoulder.

As violently as they had embraced, they separated, Rick holding his boy at arms’ length to look him over properly. Carl was exceptionally pale; his eyes an unnaturally bright blue. But he wasn’t decaying, and his skin felt warm to the touch again. Rick wasted no time as he tore at his son’s shirt, tearing open the fabric above the walker bite until it was fully exposed. There should have been a missing patch of skin, muscle and tendons exposed; but instead there was a bumpy patch of red skin, several thin red lines spreading out from it curiously, but for all intents and purposes, it appeared like a normal injury - only one that had months to heal instead of hours.

The group leaned in close to see the scar that shouldn’t have been there.

Finally, Sasha couldn’t take it.

“What the fuck just happened here?” She demanded - it seemed to burst out of her without her permission.

“No idea.” Abraham replied. “You got an answer for this, Eugene?”

The scientist shuffled.

“As with all viruses, diseases, there are some, a mighty small few, mind, whose individual chromosomes are marked in such a way-”

“English, Eugene!” Tara snapped. There was no amusement in her voice; panic was simmering slowly between them and it was palpable to everyone.

“Immunity. Someone’s always immune. And sometimes, people react differently to stimuli. Instead of dying, their genes... mutate.”

“Could you make a cure from Carl’s blood?” Carol asked, and all attention snapped to her. Daryl bristled, and gradually attention returned to Eugene and Carl.

“Hard to say.” Eugene stepped closer, taking a good look at the shoulder wound. “I’ve never seen skin heal this fast. It’s... incredible.”

“I’m not a walker.” Carl said, wiggling his fingers as though surprised to find they were still attached. “If I’m not a walker... then what am I now?”

The question hung in the air like a stale smell.

It was Glenn who said what they were all thinking.

“Something new.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue this if anyone likes the idea. I have a few ideas I would like to explore...


End file.
